I Like You VR Much
by FloraOne
Summary: What if, during the Doom Tree arc, Mamoru had remembered everything that had happened in Classic? Have some post-reveal/pre-relationship pining set during Episode 50 "VR Madness", written for Kasienda in the Fall In Love Fanwork Exchange!


_So, this fic is my contribution for the Fall In Love Fic Exchange that Antigone2 hosts on tumblr! (And I'm sorry this is zero Fall-themed, lol. It was set in a specific part of canon that just so happened to be set in Spring, so… BUT. It's very much Falling-In-Love themed, so there is that haha!)_

_I've been lucky to have been allowed to write for a friend again during this fic exchange, and even luckier that she, too, just happens to love some of the things that I adore in fic as well: Reveals and working shit through lol. So yeah, with Kasienda in mind, this story is born from the thought of what would have happened if we'd gotten a bit more of an organic development with Usagi and Mamoru after their canon reveal – if they'd gotten the chance to actually work through that dramatic reveal of their identities and everything that happened after. And so, I decided to put it where I actually would have loved to have seen it in the show – in the Makaiju arc. (And specifically here, into the VR episode lol). So, anyway. This is a 'What if Mamoru remembered shit in the Makaiju arc' fic, set in episode 50 ('VR Madness' in the English dub). So yeah, have some Usamamo post-reveal, pre relationship pining, because I dig that stuff! Enjoy!_

_My ALWAYS-and-forever-thanks to my wonderful bae-ta, Uglygreenjacket. Her life is crazy right now and she has her own fall exchange fic to write and still she takes that little free time to help me edit this little monster right here. Thank you so, so much love. _

_Also, just to preface, this fic is __**strictly 90's Animeverse**__. (Because Manga Mamoru would have acted very differently in Classic and its aftermath!) It uses all the anime's characterizations for all the characters as well as all plot points up to the beginning of R, where I diverge. It's meant to read as an emotional continuous aftermath of everything these two went through in the first season of the 90s anime. So, if there are parts of Classic you're really cross with and that I reference - they are only in here because they canonically WERE lol. In that way, this story is one of the most faithful anime adaptations I ever wrote lol (since usually I like to mix and match, fix things, and bring Manga Mamoru traits into the animeverse, etc.)_

* * *

I Like You VR Much

A Short Story Written For The Fall In Love Fic Exchange 2019

* * *

Mamoru's heart jumped into his mouth when he saw who was calling, and he almost didn't pick up, too preoccupied with staring at the caller ID.

But he did. Fumbling and nervous and terrified. "Usagi," he breathed into his mouthpiece.

"Uh… Hi…"

Her voice was sweet. It always had been. He'd even known that when he'd still been delightfully making it shriek.

_Be smooth. Be _nice_. Please, please, please, don't fuck this up,_ he begged his brain.

A short pause in which she didn't speak - he freaked out a little. He should be filling that, right?

But then she did – her voice uncharacteristically small. _Nervous_, almost.

Tsukino Usagi didn't _do_ nervous…

"Um, this new VR arcade just opened… well IS opening. Tomorrow…"

His whole body flew into stiff, alert alarm, and he sat up straight as a rod, paralysis shooting up his spine and settling in his nerves.

Was this it? Was it happening? Was she doing what he hadn't had the guts to do for so long now?

Was she asking him on a date?

His voice sounded oddly stiff and hoarse when he answered, and he cringed before the words were even fully out.

"Oh yeah?"

"Um... yeah… I thought maybe we could…"

"_Yes_?" he rushed out too fast – and why was it a goddamn question, his voice wasn't supposed to do that.

Usagi's voice faltered on the other end of the line and he felt like choking. _No, no, go on._

"You thought we could…" he prompted, voice too breathy still.

His hands were almost trembling – or they would be, if he weren't currently attempting to crush his phone in this too hard, nervous grip.

It all came whooshing back out in crushing disappointment when she continued speaking.

"Well, Luna thought it might be good training for… for us. You know, for fighting. Cardians. Well. You know… _Anyway_, it's some kind of monster shooting game, so…"

He collapsed back into his bed, the back of his head hitting his pillow in frustration and he barely managed to bite back a disgruntled groan.

Training. Not a date.

"Oh," he said, trying his hardest not to sound dejected. "Yes, that sounds… That sounds reasonable."

_I could take you for ice cream afterwards._

_Let's go have a milkshake beforehand._

_Does it have to be training?_

_Can I take you out after that?_

_Let's do that. But do you maybe want to come over now by any chance?_

_Can I kiss you? I think I might want to kiss you._

Of course, he didn't say any of these. Instead he said, "Text me when you want me there," in his hiding voice. The clipped one. The business one.

He slapped his palm across his own forehead when her answer sounded kind of spooked.

"O-okay," she said. "Well, see you tomorrow, then, Mamoru."

He sighed heavily, audibly. Glared at the ceiling and couldn't keep the frustrated tone out of his voice. "Yeah… Yeah, see you. Tomorrow. Goodnight."

He clicked the red button on his phone before she had the chance to return the sentiment, utterly angry at himself.

Would it _kill_ him to be smooth for once? But no, it seemed he really didn't know how to flirt without insults. And he really didn't know if he was _supposed_ to flirt in the first place.

Why was this all so stupidly, infuriatingly complicated? He remembered dying for this woman _three times_. Why couldn't he get the words out to ask for a date? Why couldn't he get the words out to _talk_…

He turned and slammed his face into his pillow when he hung up, the sound muffled by the fabric. God, he was hopeless. He was a bloody disaster.

* * *

To be absolutely fair, the thought of asking Tsukino Usagi for a date was a new one. Pressing, insistent, _crippling…_ but new. Definitely very new.

It was only in retrospect that he concluded that all the times she riled him up so much he thought of nothing else but her in that moment might have meant something more. That the person he became when she was around and that he simply did not _recognize _as himself, had probably been something he ought to have paid attention to.

He'd dated her _friend_. Casually, of course - they hadn't even so much as held hands, and he hadn't thought of the possibility to do so. But… the thought had not crossed his mind that instead he could be dating _her_.

But truth be told, the thought would have been ludicrous. Usagi and him were explosive, intense. To him, she hadn't been someone who anyone would simply… _date_. She was someone who made your blood boil, your skin tingle in irritation, someone all-consuming and frustrating and infuriating. Someone to fight. Someone to drown with. Someone to lose yourself with. Something that didn't make sense. Something dangerous.

Not someone to casually drink tea with occasionally. The thought had never once occurred to him.

Which was exactly why he was so terrified.

He'd gotten her wrong. Absolutely, completely wrong. Endymion in all his carefree impulsivity (something that had been so carefully bottled up for Mamoru, pressed down until responsibility and conscientiousness could take over and take the wheel because in Mamoru's life they had to) had taken one look at Serenity and known he was lost forever. Serenity with her reckless heart in a prim cage (not unlike his in this life), Serenity with her carefree, saccharine glee when he caught her eating with her hands as if she'd gotten away with committing high treason, Serenity with her broken hope and her heart on her tongue when they'd in fact went on to commit high treason together. Serenity. And he'd found her, same smile, same cheeky attitude, _alive… _Right in front of him, literally hitting him on the head. And he _hadn't asked her on a date_. He hadn't fallen to his knees in gratitude on the spot. He hadn't seen her.

And it had happened _twice_. Thanks to the Silver Crystal and Usagi's wish on it that had miraculously saved them all, or brought them back in time, or _something_, he'd had _two _chances to get this right, and he'd botched _both _of them.

How could he have been such a blind _idiot_?

Yes, in retrospect… In retrospect it made sense. It all suddenly made sense. It made sense why his heart had jumped and his breath had caught and he'd felt like he needed to look and look and never look away the first time he saw her. While something reckless and carefree and frankly _arrogant _came out of his mouth and did so again and again and again whenever he saw her. Why he'd been so nonsensically _drawn _to her.

And as it turned out, even _after _he got his memories back this time, he hadn't been _done _botching this.

Almost exactly two months after he had died in her arms, Mamoru regained his memories approximately two minutes after Usagi did, prompted via one head-splitting migraine and a forced transformation when Sailor Moon was once again called to duty by a talking cat or two.

By the time Tuxedo Mask arrived on the scene, Usagi - no, _Sailor Moon_ had already taken care of the whole thing. He hadn't even been needed.

She'd stood there with tears in her eyes and trembling limbs looking up at the Moon as if the worst thing in the world had suddenly happened, and maybe, probably it had.

He could relate, anyway. He hadn't been that night who he'd been 10 minutes previously, and it was… it was hard to take.

She'd caught sight of him when he de-transformed, and her gasp split through his lungs.

He'd felt the urge to run even when she ran at him.

Something in his terrified gaze apparently held her back to close the distance between them completely, and he didn't know if the pang he'd felt was relief or sorrow.

Serenity. This was _Serenity_. This was _Sailor Moon_ who was _Usagi who was Odango Atama_. His head was splitting apart.

Her eyes shone with the tears she'd just shed, but now they were full of hope. "Do you remember...?" she whispered.

"I'm... I…" he stuttered. He'd never before stuttered in his life, but this was honestly overwhelming.

_Go and get yourself a cool boyfriend._

He'd said that to _Serenity… _How was he just … the lamest person in the world?

His heart felt like it wanted to crawl into his stomach and bury itself there.

"Yes," he croaked. "Yes, I remember."

Her eyes had _jumped_. Filled with joy and relief and her body had _wriggled _with it, adorable and so impossibly, immeasurably _endearing _it _hurt_, ready to pounce at him, to forgive and to love him and fall into his arms, and it was strike number one of fucking it all up, because Mamoru's reaction had been to turn and _run_.

Because he remembered it _all_. He remembered an empire falling because he couldn't keep it in his pants, he remembered the panic and cutting fear in Serenity's eyes when her whole world was burning because of the rage of his people, he remembered his determined hands wrapped around Sailor Moon's throat as he strangled her, he remembered the sound of his hard boot cracking her ribs as he kicked her soft body across the floor.

Even with her calls for him, he'd turned and he'd run and he'd hidden. Twenty minutes after he'd arrived back home and collapsed against his door, soft knocks sounded at his back - and he'd hit his head against the wood of his door and waited out her soft calls of his names once more before she disappeared, just like the overwhelmed, terrified coward that he was.

But when he finally realized that he was literally shutting out happiness (_why_. Why did he _do _that? What was _wrong _with him?!) he'd sought her out.

But her eyes weren't filled with joy anymore when she spotted him, instead they were full of trepidation and hurt and it was all his fault, and he wanted to murder himself but didn't know what to _say_.

And so he said a few stupid things. Inconsequential things.

He didn't say hello. He didn't smile at her tentative look. Because he was scared and his first reaction was to shut everything out when he was overwhelmed. And so he didn't greet her, and instead said, "I ran into Makoto yesterday."

She blinked up at him in that mix of hurt and confusion and embarrassment and worked her lips into a quiet, careful, "Oh?"

But, at least this was conversation, right?

Even when they were standing in the middle of a street corner, passersby ready to overhear every single word.

Usagi gave a wary look around.

"None of the girls remember," he concluded, eyes on her and not the street.

Her shoulders slumped and she spoke to the floor. "No…"

He swallowed, watched her. He had so many questions. Sailor Moon had been the only one left alive when he died. They should have been dead. He should have been dead. How were they here? How did she _do _that? And...

He took her elbow like the cowardly douche he was and dragged her to the edge of the park. She shook free awkwardly way later than he'd anticipated, but followed him silently.

"I take it we won?" he'd asked way later, sitting with his legs dangling off the side of the small wooden dock on the edge of the lake of 'their' park. So many things had happened here. Except maybe they… hadn't?!

She nodded, her hands folded in her lap, her legs dangling off the dock, too, but with too much space between them. "We did."

He swallowed, took the courage to turn and look her in the eye and she met his gaze with spooked, timid eyes that didn't suit her at all.

"Usagi…" he whispered. Watched the way the simple sound caused a reaction on her face. He couldn't take it, and so he turned his eyes back to the body of murky water beneath his dangling feet. "Why am I alive? I died."

He felt her nod.

"So did I," she whispered.

And with that he whirled around, and everything in him started to scream and pinch and clench and…

She shrugged. "Using the Silver Crystal kills me," she said as nonchalantly as if she'd spoken of her poor test results.

He froze. Paralyzed. He couldn't help but _picture _it… _her… _after he'd… It gutted him. He couldn't _breathe_.

He'd thought… He'd assumed she'd survived. The thought she too might have… It hadn't occurred to him.

She'd… He'd wanted her to survive. He'd wanted nothing more...

One more shrug from her, seemingly uncomfortable under his shocked gaze. "The girls died too," she pointed out, needlessly.

It took awhile before he found his voice again. "So, how are we here?" he croaked.

She sighed, long and deep, and it lifted her shoulders and let them fall. "I wished something on the Silver Crystal when I died. I guess it heard me?" she spoke into the distance.

"What… did you wish for?"

For some reason, his voice was as tight as his heart. He had no idea why it terrified him to hear what she'd say.

Only when she answered he understood he'd been terrified to hear something along the lines of 'I wanted to forget you.' 'I wish I'd never met you.' Something like that.

"I wanted to go back and be a normal girl and for us all to live a normal life," she confessed in a small voice.

The rest went unsaid but hovered in the air. But here they were, Tuxedo Mask and Sailor Moon, and she wasn't allowed to lead a normal life at all.

Her answer lay heavy on his heart and he knew he'd be obsessing over it for a while. But he managed to clear his head at least a little and stiffly nod.

"That... that explains why it's…" he started. "We went back in time I guess?" he said with a frown.

She shrugged in that way more apologetic way. "I… think so? The school year just started. I'm in Year 2 still. So...I...don't really know what…"

He interrupted her. "So we're, what... a year older? Actually? Or just... set back? Does _anyone _remember the Dark Kingdom?"

She hung her shoulders, wringing her hands a little tighter. "I'm really not sure. Luna says the Silver Crystal can be… weird like that."

_Luna… _Right.

He blinked.

"I remember some of the classes I'm sitting in. It's… weirdly not the _same_, but… close enough," he said, voice calmer.

She nodded a bit more enthusiastically. "Yeah," she said. "I have a resemblance of a chance to pass this crap now, second time around."

He chuckled. Immediately, the urge to tease her came up, like an old, familiar friend tingling on his lips, and he swallowed it and sobered.

He… that's not… How was he supposed to _treat _her now…?

It fell from his lips in a hushed, terrified whisper. "...What do we do now?"

He'd meant them. She understood differently, and doofus that he was, he didn't correct her.

"I don't know," she said with a small, too sad smile. "I guess I have a few bad guys to fight."

He whipped his eyes back to hers. Hated how she said 'I', not 'we.' They were in this together, didn't she _know_?

He tried to put it all into his eyes but of course it wasn't enough because he was so goddamn rubbish at this shit and he didn't know what to do and he didn't know what to think and his heart was locked in a terrified cage.

But he knew he would never leave her alone. "I'll... be right here with you," he'd whispered.

* * *

He'd nailed his coffin shut with a sledgehammer only one day after that.

Some Minotaur-like monster - _Cardian_, these things were called, apparently - had almost had the upper hand over Sailor Moon and he'd barely managed to get there in time and get her out of there.

Afterwards, he was shaken and angry (at her, at himself, at the monster, for her not getting the chance at that normal life that had been her dying wish…). But angry Mamoru was stupid and not very nice to be around and he'd growled and been possesive and insisted walking her home in a gloomy cloud of looming, unpenetrable anger and self-depreciation that _wasn't _supposed to be directed at her and yet it came out that way.

They walked in tense silence until apparently, Usagi had had enough.

"Would you ever have looked at me? Without Serenity," Usagi asked out of nowhere with simmering eyes and he stopped and looked at her; shocked and put on the spot.

Her eyes narrowed with every beat of silence that he didn't speak.

And so eventually he opened his mouth hoping something came out that made sense. "I _did _look at you," he said lamely, imploringly. But it was the truth. He'd _noticed _her. Of _course_, he had… He'd been _besotted _with her. But…

"We met," he tried again, even lamer, and cringed. "We ... talked."

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms and it tightened his chest uncomfortably because _why_, he _was _good at fucking this up. "You know what I mean."

"I'm... I'm not sure," he stammered.

And of course that was all sorts of wrong and he wanted to take it back and he wanted to rip out his heart and shove it into her hands instead, so she could see for herself what she was doing to it and how helpless he was with it, because words did him no good, because her eyes lost their fight and turned sad instead.

"Would you have ever asked me for like... a date?" she mumbled.

He'd… thought about that. And come to the horrible conclusion that he probably would have remained blind and stupid and wouldn't have. He was about to turn 18, first semester college student. She outwardly behaved even more childish than her age. And yes, they were also reborn lovers from a past life and two superheroes that died together once again during a full year they'd lived and lost, but he wouldn't have known that. And even when the fire was there, he was not good at reading it, not good at understanding it. And no… without knowing what he knew now, without Sailor Moon and without Serenity, he probably wouldn't have asked her out. Maybe he would have started to get what that feeling was way later, maybe he'd have asked her out a few years down the road, if he'd still had the chance, if no one would have snatched up that passionate, amazing, carefree woman with the golden hair and bright, heart-melting smile. But… Odango Atama and Mamoru-baka in the streets of Juuban? Now, without their memories?

He spoke the truth but it came out wrong and there were not enough words to _explain…_

"I probably wouldn't have, no," he croaked, and his eyes were bugging, crying out for her to not _misunderstand_.

He was well aware of the fact that it stood between them that he wasn't asking her for a date right now, _either_.

His heart hammered. _No. She's gonna think the wrong thing._ She's...

"Right," she mumbled, and there was something in her voice that broke and it fissured through his heart because yes, she was _thinking the wrong thing..._

"Right," he'd said helplessly.

* * *

One day later, and three days before his non-date at the VR arcade, he realized she was maybe not waiting for him to get a grip.

Her eyes had already been puffy and red and he was pretty sure part of that was already his fault. He should have reacted better. He owed her that.

Maybe it was karma. Maybe it was the kind of price he was supposed to pay for all his previous atrocities to her, or even just for the fact he wasn't any good at shaking Natsumi Ginga off of him. But the intensity with which the spike of jealousy lodged into his heart was nearly crippling, when in the middle of the fucking road, and _right_ _beside him,_ Seijuro stuck a bloody _red rose_ into Usagi's face, followed by a whole _bouquet _of them, and declared his undying love.

Before she had the chance to say anything, Mamoru had reacted in the most shockingly petty, indignant, the clumsiest way possible.

"You want to date _her_?" he'd sputtered out, incredulously.

He knew. He knew how that must have sounded even before Usagi's hurt eyes flashed around to him, but apparently his mouth wasn't done.

He started to bristle, hackles rising, and he bit.

"Are you _serious_?" he glowered.

It wasn't even done yet and he was already so embarrassed about it he would have loved nothing more than for the Dark Kingdom to rise from the Dead and brainwash him once more only so he could forget this ever happened.

"_Who_ are you?" the pest asked.

But Usagi ignored the boy too. Whirled around to Mamoru with angry tears in the corners of her eyes, but not before snatching up the offending bouquet of roses and clutching it like a protective shield in front of her chest as she glared up at him in anger he so fully, fully deserved.

"Just because _you_ don't want to date me, doesn't mean no one else _does_, you absolute _jerk_," she fired with watery, furious eyes.

He froze. Horrified. No, that was absolutely wrong. But he was too terrified to even flee. Because if he did, then Seijuro would have the chance to cut in, to use his stupidity to his advantage and he _couldn't-_

But he didn't have a _choice_.

"C'mon, Seijuro," Usagi said with her glowering eyes fixed on Mamoru's. "Let's get to school."

She yanked at Seijuro's elbow and dragged him past Mamoru and away, and Mamoru turned in his spot and glared daggers at them both as he went a few paces after them because couldn't leave that guy _alone_ with her, not when he'd messed up like this.

"Usagi!" Mamoru yelled after her in frustration, his hand in his hair, but of course it didn't do him any good at all.

They went to the same school, after all, and Mamoru wasn't prepared to follow Usag_i into the damn building. _

But Seijuro, of course, could do that.

Usagi kept glancing back at him angrily, but Seijuro was walking beside her. Seijuro who went to her school. Seijuro who was about her age. Seijuro who might have been the same height and build as Mamoru but who was perfectly allowed to do this. Encouraged even.

He'd never hated anyone as much in his life as he did right that moment and he knew it was all wrong.

He should be angry at himself instead. But really, he already was.

* * *

Usagi had texted him only an hour or so after their call last night, instructing him rather to the point to meet up with her at 11 at the venue itself so they might get in early before the crowds, but when he arrived, 5 minutes early, Usagi was nowhere to be seen and the noisy queue was stretching in rows and rows from the brightly lit theater with the animated retro neon signs.

And so with a semi-permanent, irritated ridge forming between his brows and crossed arms, he settled into this slowest-of-all-slow-moving queues and waited.

From the looks of it, the people in the queue were almost exclusively couples, and it turned his stomach into knots, and unfortunately, gave his head ample ammunition to get lost in uncomfortable thoughts.

Remembering your own death was quite a number. Remembering your own death TWICE was so outlandish it bordered on the absurd. Three times was just some sort of joke that made it weirdly routine. And yet, all of these weren't as weird and uncomfortable a memory as remembering Tsukino Usagi transform into Sailor Moon in front of him knowing all the things he said to her and never getting to say... to say what, exactly?

Nothing. He hadn't gotten to say anything. Instead he'd died, then gotten brainwashed, nearly killed her. And so, this night in Starlight Tower had been lodged in the back of different things he ought to speak to her about. Like dying together in a genocide, or his hands around her throat and the glee he remembered feeling as he did so. It all mounted up in his brain with such intensity, not knowing where to start, that he apparently didn't start at all and made it all worse with every stupid, awful word that came out of his mouth.

But it festered. Like a beating wound that hurt and no one was tending to it, it hit him from the inside out like a steady heartbeat. Reminding him of his shortcomings.

He wouldn't want himself either. And if he never asked, then he still had a chance to pretend he hadn't fucked it all up in the first place.

When he glanced at his watch, his brow twitched even tighter. She was 15 minutes late already. The queue behind him had gotten two rows longer even though he'd barely gotten to move up, all around him lively, excited chatter that made him tense up even more.

The couple in front of him was giggling quietly, the boy's arm tightly around the girl's shoulder as he murmured into her temple with a silly smile. It hurt to see.

And when his brain superimposed their image with his and Usagi's, it curled his stomach in longing _want_, but then his masochist brain quickly changed the image into that of Usagi with Seijuro, and he had to shake his head violently to get it out.

"_Mamoru_!"

And then there she was. He could _feel_ his heart palpitate the second he spotted her, his palms breaking out in nervous, cold sweat. Usagi. All flushed cheeks and bright blue eyes and looking terrifyingly cute in her purple windbreaker and green sweater over a white button up that he couldn't deal, and were they _matching _a little bit?

She shuffled adorable lavender-colored oxford shoes in his direction, calling his name with a small cringe, and stopped in front of him with her hands on her knees and the hem of her way too small skirt (as goddamn always, because apparently he deserved every bit of torture).

She didn't try to timidly come closer this time. Didn't reach out. Kept a polite distance instead. And he supposed he absolutely deserved that after what he'd accidentally said to her the other day, but it still hurt.

"I'm _so _sorry," she said with a polite bow. _Wrong_. "I swear I tried to be on time this time."

He only managed to nod curtly, giving the wrong impression because that's just what he did apparently, and croaked a small, "It's ok," while the people in the queue behind them gave Usagi the side eye for apparently cutting the line and he didn't correct them.

Because if he'd opened his mouth a snide remark about wearing a skirt to what was supposed to be work-out would have come out and he was _trying to be nice goddammit_.

"Were you waiting long?" she asked with a flinch, eyeing the massive queue behind and in front of them.

"It's fine," he bit out between his teeth.

She nodded, and folded her hands in front of her and shuffled along, tense silence coating them like a thick fog. Other than the couples surrounding them, they were standing apart quite a considerable distance, however much his hand closest to hers was twitching.

He took a deep breath, studiously looking ahead and the back of this guy's elbow slung around his girlfriend.

"So, Luna said this would be good?" he asked way too weirdly, way too high-pitched.

"Um, yeah," she said, gaze fluttering up. "I'm not so sure about it, though."

He quirked a smile. "You're not?"

She shrugged, a blush on her cheeks. "It's just another type of arcade isn't it? I bet I'm gonna ace every game in there."

He smirked outright. Good, this was good, they could do this. "This needs aim. You don't have _any _aim, Odango."

She puffed up in front of him, and it was almost like old times. "Ex_cuse_ me?!" she shrieked.

She flushed and stemmed her hands into her hips and looked so _cute _it _did _things to him.

"I bet you _I'm _gonna ace this thing," he challenged, leaning down towards her just a little.

She got up on her tiptoes, rising into his personal space and glaring up at him in sheer _unbearably_ endearing challenge. "Oh you _wish_," she spat.

"No, I know," he purred. "You're gonna stumble around and fall over your long-ass hair and _I'm _gonna beat the highscore," he teased, full on predatory glint, he couldn't keep it in.

But she shrunk back, wilting before his eyes with a huff and she moved to brush one delicate hand slowly through one streamer of glorious hair. "Right, you don't like my hair," she mumbled at it.

He blinked in appalment. He'd dreamt of that hair. And Endymion had… he had… Did she not know?

He swallowed thickly, suddenly nervous. "...I never said that," he said, voice thick and helpless.

He inhaled deeply and the queue shuffled along a little bit. He could… use that, right? A long queue meant he didn't actually have to hold eye contact. He could… He could apologize. He definitely needed to.

He had a damn lot to apologize for and a damn lot to get right and maybe this was his chance, right here. So he hadn't managed to arrange it as a date. So what? Nothing was keeping him from _turning_ it into one, right?

"Listen, Usagi…"

Turns out the Ginga siblings could keep him from it very well.

"_Yoo-hoo_!"

Not taking his eyes off Usagi, Mamoru's lips turned into a small snarl because by now he could pick out that voice from anywhere, and he absolutely _hated _how Usagi's face fell as she looked into the direction it came from.

"_Mamoru_!" Natsumi appeared on his side grasping his arm and he turned stiff as a board. It was only then that the girl had apparently spotted Usagi next to him. "Oh," she said with an edge to her voice and her face falling into resentment. "Tsukino. You're here, too."

"Hi Natsumi," Usagi sighed.

As if outright _dismissing _her, Natsumi wedged herself between them, turning her back to Usagi, and touched her other hand to his arm, too.

"Are you going to try the arcade out, too?" she sang, batting her eyelashes and he leaned away a little, put on the spot and uncomfortable and how did one _react _politely to this? "Me too! This is going to be so much fun with the two of us in there! Come up front, we're way farther up the queue!"

Natsumi began pulling him out of the queue and when he looked back helplessly, Usagi was staring at her feet with a grim, almost _pained _expression, remaining in their spot in the queue with her hands shaking at the hem of her skirt and _no-_

"No," he put all the vehemence into his voice and stood his ground, shaking Natsumi's grip off. "I'm here with Usagi, actually."

Natsumi blinked as if confused, as if the idea was ludicrous. "Oh," she said, perplexed. "Don't you wanna cut this massive line?"

"_Usagi_!"

Mamoru's head whipped back. They weren't far, not at all, but there he was. _Seijuro_.

"It's so nice to see you! Are you going in, too?"

Mamoru was back next to Usagi in the blink of an eye.

And so was Natsumi. She curled her hands back around his elbow.

"They are!" Natsumi said, and only then Seijuro's eyes spotted Mamoru and all the delight fell from his eyes, but he guessed the sentiment was mutual. "I was just suggesting they cut the line and come in with us," Natsumi declared as if she'd included Usagi from the start.

Seijuro's eyes flew back to Usagi's and turned back to that warm and delighted hue and it coiled in Mamoru's gut.

"Well, come in with us! It'll be fun. The more the merrier."

Usagi shot Mamoru a look, a silent question, and he stiffened, because yes, he wanted silent communication with her. He wanted that very badly.

"Uh…" she said while holding Mamoru's gaze wide-eyed.

And of course, he wanted nothing _less _than sharing Usagi this afternoon with _Seijuro_...

Seijuro's eyes narrowed. "We're not interrupting some sort of date, right?"

Her eyes widened even farther and so did his, and they looked at each other with something akin to panic, he was sure about it. "_Uh_... "

The words she mumbled felt like defeat to his ears. "No. No, you're not," she murmured dejectedly.

He pursed his lips.

* * *

He'd never been as vehement to try to NOT make something into a date as much as he tried to with this one. If he did, if he let events unfold, it looked almost like he was on a double date. And Usako was dating _Seijuro_ in it, not him.

"I've never seen you without your school uniform, Usagi-chan," Seijuro was saying as he led her through the entrance with his hand at the small of her back. "Your outfit looks really cute!"

Mamoru scowled. Why didn't _he _think to say that?

"Thanks!" Usagi beamed up, almost back to her usual cheerfulness - because apparently Seijuro _wasn't _a specialist in dimming it.

"I think the lockers are located right after the first stage. Do you want to share one, Usagi-chan?"

Mamoru grit his teeth.

"We could go for ice-cream afterwards too, if you'd like?"

Something in Mamoru _snapped_.

He was just about to repeat the atrocity that was his last jealous explosion when a boy with sandy blonde hair walked right into Usagi's path and groaned exaggeratedly.

"Ahhh, what the hell are _you _doing here?" the boy lamented as if her utter presence was dimming his experience. "This is for _men_, baka, not for dumb girls like you."

He bristled, about to step in, utterly scandalized at the gall of this random preteen when Usagi rolled her eyes dramatically and hit the boy across the head.

"Don't be such an absolute _jerk_, Shingo. You know better," she growled at him and Mamoru blinked, perplexed.

It should have been obvious, really. The way they looked a little bit alike, the familiar way they spoke with each other, but the penny only dropped when a man stepped into view that looked like both of them, and Mamoru immediately, abruptly, turned into a rigid, stiff, utterly petrified _pole _because… because…

"Papa!" Usagi scolded.

This… this was her _dad_.

"Shingo!" her _father _scolded in turn. "Is that any way to talk to your sister? Or to _anyone_?"

The boy murmured something that earned another slap across the head from his sister, which in turn earned a scolding from her dad as well, who rolled his eyes and looked his way.

Mamoru was terrified. This was her _father… _This was the father of the woman he, he… He had no idea how anyone talked to _fathers_.

And her father's eyes skimmed right over him and to _Seijuro_ and it frazzled at Mamoru's mind and tingled irritatingly on his skin because no, _wrong_, _look at _me _instead. _I'm _the guy you need to worry about, _wait_..._

"Usagi…" her father said with somewhat narrowed eyes, seizing up Seijuro, never taking his eyes off the boy even when he was talking to his daughter. "Who might this young man be you're with today?"

Usagi jumped, cringing, a hand flying to the back of her head.

But before she could stammer anything, Mamoru did what he did best, be an irritating asshole.

"She's not with him," Mamoru growled, and promptly froze.

_Finally_, those stern, sophisticated eyes turned to _him_, and Mamoru was this strange mix of righteously smug and absolutely terrified under their scrutiny. "And who might you be then, young man?" Usagi's father said.

"Friends!" Usagi yelped, high-pitched and abrupt. "They're my friends."

Natsumi huffed, mumbled something under her voice that sounded suspiciously like 'you wish.'

"Oh c'mon, Papa," Shingo groaned and pulled at his sleeve. "As if Baka-Usagi would be able to land a boyfriend as cool as either of those," he said with a roll of his eyes, sizing Mamoru up, and for a minute there, he was so indignantly outraged, but then Usagi shoved him with another screech of "Shingo!" and yet somehow, horrifyingly, the whole thing had placated her father and he let go.

Her father leaned in close and whispered something in Usagi's ear and she shook her head.

"Papa, we're losing our spot up front!" Shingo wailed, and Usagi shoved her father a little ahead to follow her brother and leave her alone.

"Shingo's not really wrong, Papa," she said in a rather self-deprecating tone and Mamoru hoped against hope she didn't mean the ridiculous comment about whether or not friggin _Sailor Moon _could land a bunch of unworthy teenagers like him or Seijuro because that was simply _ludicrous _to even-

And it was _his_ fault she thought that, wasn't it?

With a loud boom that sounded through the metallic chamber around them, the lights went off and were replaced by fluorescent black lights that flickered on and off as fog was pushed underneath the heavy theater shutter door upfront as it slowly rose. A bodiless, monotone, female voice spoke over speakers from all sides.

"Welcome cadettes to your first test mission on the Tiger's Claw. The trip to Klaatu Barada Nikto will take approximately 72 days, 3 hours and 2 minutes. Please form orderly queues as you enter the spacecraft and follow the instructions of the crew. Please stay in your assigned pods until further instruction."

Usagi giggled, and with a step up front he made sure to stand directly behind her, trying to stay close so he wouldn't get separated from her at all cost.

Up front, the light show growing steadily more dramatic and the shutter almost up, Usagi's brother was jumping up and down and yelling at the scene. "Yeah, just come here aliens! I'll punish you in the name of the Moon!" and struck a very familiar pose to fit his sentiment.

In front of him, Usagi facepalmed, and Mamoru couldn't help the snort.

"Your brother is a Sailor Moon fan," Mamoru deadpanned in a hush with raised eyebrows, leaning down towards her ear.

She huffed and nodded and he stood so close he felt her shift against his front as she did so. He held his breath when he realised.

"The biggest," she sighed, unaffected.

"The irony," he whisper-smiled at her and she shrugged again.

"Tell me about it," she mumbled.

With a metallic groan, the shutter was lifted all the way and two theater employees in brightly colored futuristic costumes and matching, exaggerated smiles directed the crowd into the ride.

Up ahead waited a series of little pods designed to be entered in pairs and Mamoru was poised as if for battle. No _way _was he gonna let Seijuro share one with Usagi. This was war.

And so when Seijuro, walking beside Usagi, touched her _arm _and started to speak, _both _of Mamoru's hands immediately clutched her shoulders to physically _shove _her into the opposite direction.

He was a petty asshole and he knew it.

She blinked up at him in mild confusion but it was ok. He exhaled in relief when he'd managed to steer her into a capsule and stepped into it after her.

Only to notice, to his utter horror, Natsumi pressing into the same pod after them.

He was pressed against both of them flushly, touching both girls ankle to hip and this was suddenly worse and more uncomfortable than if he'd let her sit with Seijuro…. No, that was wrong. Nothing would have been worse than _that_.

"This is a bit tight, isn't it?" Natsumi commented, but curled around his arm immediately, and Mamoru's lips itched to mutter a sarcastic '_Gee_, I wonder why,' but then Usagi spoke.

Her hands were primly in her lap and she made herself small and inched to the farthest end of the capsule - other than Natsumi who was basically draping herself against Mamoru - and her words were quiet.

"Uh… I can move if you're uncomfortable…"

"No!" Mamoru yelped, and Usagi blinked at him.

He was weird. He was so, so weird.

The disembodied voice spoke again but he didn't listen, instead he was agonizingly hyper-focused on every single inch of him that was pressed against _Usagi _while _another girl_ basically lay o_n top of him _and what the hell even was this, when the pod began to move and the wall in front of them turned out to be a giant screen that flickered on.

It was some kind of show intro. A 'captain' saying things to them that were of no consequence and he paid no mind to, because Usagi's little finger was inches from his own. A sequence that simulated the start to a flight, and the pod tilted first into Usagi's side (pressing him even harder against her, which was torture) and then into Natsumi's (causing him to fall _away _from Usagi, which was torture too.)

Mamoru was somewhere close to nervous cardiac arrest (her _father _was sitting right in front of them), when with a red blare and a screeching siren, the atmosphere changed and the pods shuddered.

"Red Alert!" The disembodied voices monotoned. "We're under attack by the Kilrathi attack squadron. Repeat. Red Alert."

Natsumi shrieked, Usagi rolled her eyes at her antics, and then the 'spaceship' was under attack by an alien invasion and their pods started shaking and rocking and bopping almost uncontrollably.

One violent shake and Mamoru's first instinct was to grab Usagi. The pod tilted far, far to her side, and with little coordination and completely on auto-pilot, he flung out his arm - and accidently shoved Usagi _out of the pod._

He perceived it all in almost horrifying slow motion, the way he tried to grab at her but she slipped from his grasp, and he watched in horror, reaching out to grab at her again but it had happened. Before he could do anything, she'd fallen from his capsule and into the next. Into _Seijuro's _\- and he'd _pushed her into it._

Usagi shrieked and fell into Seijuro's lap with flushing cheeks, and what the hell _was _this nightmare, had he just _pushed his princess into the _lap _of another man what the hell was _wrong _with him?!_

Usagi flew away from Seijuro and apologize,d and her cheeks were flaming red and so were _Seijuro's, _and everything in Mamoru curled and tightened and tasted like ash and regret and why the _hell _was he such a fucking _moron_.

"Red Alert!" The disembodied voices monotoned once more, but now with a longer message. "We're under attack by the Kilrathi attack squadron. Repeat. Red Alert. The Bridge needs to be defended at all costs. Prepare for attack. Your laser rifles will be assigned to you in the armory effective immediately."

Seijuro _wasn't _a moron and seized the chance to flirt immediately, and just when the wall on his right turned out to not be a wall either but another shutter door instead that was lifting with the theater fog once more, to Mamoru's further shame her father turned around to scold Usagi for the mistake HE had made.

It was some sort of ruckus after that. Natsumi clutched his arm and mumbled something excitedly as they exited the pods and were shuffled along. Mamoru bodily turned, craned his neck, tried to wait, tried to get _back _to her when they were filed out.

No. No, no, no.

There she was, three rows behind him, and Seijuro was pushing a stray lock of her hair behind her ear and her cheeks were still tinted pink and no. No, no, no.

He absentmindedly untangled his arm yet again from Natsumi's grip on it, and he must have looked like personified panic.

Seijuro was _hitting _on her.

Smiling sweetly at her instead of brooding darkly, generously bestowing compliment after compliment upon her instead of insulting her jokingly, and then the douche sweetly helped her into the gear they were handed and he felt the need to throw something.

"Can you help me with that?" Natsumi asked with saccharine sweetness in her voice, turning her back to him and the straps that held the pack that attached the laser toy gun to her person.

He buckled it up without a word and stomped off before she'd turned.

"Mamoru!" she called after him.

Mamoru stomped over just in time to rip Usagi's jacket from Seijuro's perplexed hand and throw it into a locker with his own jacket instead.

"Shouldn't you share one with your sister?" he bit out, and locked the coin locker with a 100 Yen coin before anyone had the chance to protest.

Usagi's eyes were intense at his back, and he shrunk under her gaze.

* * *

Usagi shrieked when the first monster appeared right behind her, jumped half her height into the air as if she hadn't seen far worse and far more real in her life.

Mamoru couldn't bite the smirk back and yet he was there in a flash, shooting immediately to rid her of the nuisance. And so did Seijuro.

Really, the amount of time they spent glaring at each other this morning was probably quite amusing to anyone looking in on them and everyone who wasn't him.

But he'd gotten under Mamoru's skin and there was nothing more important at this moment than outdoing Seijuro Ginga.

Even as he was still glaring at the guy, a fresh round of holograms appeared. Without even looking, Mamoru had widened his stance and shot blindly, and so did he. All holograms went down, full points.

He didn't even look smug, just glared harder.

One more round of holograms; these, too, went down in a flash.

Natsumi hopped a little in her spot, her counter on her chest going up. Bull's eye count. "Look, look, I got one, too!" she cheered.

Mamoru barely glanced over at her.

He did, however, glance back at Usagi. Usagi who stood next to Natsumi with a glum expression and an even bigger pout, rolling her eyes. Her counter read zero. One more hologram appeared right in front of her and her eyes turned determined as she fired.

She missed. And pouted.

Natsumi shot it in her stead and jeered at her. "Oh wow, that one was so close, and you still missed?" she mocked.

Usagi's shoulders fell. And when her eyes met his briefly, she directly looked away, almost as if… almost ashamed.

Seijuro was hitting the next round at top speed but Mamoru let go of this mad quest and walked the two paces back to Usagi.

Usagi lifted her chin and looked pointedly to the side, as if she wasn't near tears. Hiding.

That wouldn't do.

He exhaled carefully and stepped right behind her.

"Widen your stance," he murmured, and touched her hip lightly, innocenty, prodding it into one direction. Usagi stiffened under his touch, but then moved under his hand as if melting, and he held his breath, and moved closer.

She was warm.

"Sure footing, so your arm doesn't move too much," he continued, breathing down her neck and against her ear, and tried his hardest to pretend they were alone. "Use both hands. There,"

Usagi moved under his instructions like putty in his hands. He was overdoing it, he knew. His arms had moved around her, his hands around hers as she held the toy gun. Her hands were so _soft-_

She looked up at him, leaning her head against his collarbone and craning her neck, and he turned his face to look back.

For a second there, time stood still and was filled entirely with the blue, blue, blue of her giant, unfairly pretty eyes, and he had to hold his breath once more.

Her eyes were wide. Her lips were _close _\- and he had to lick his lips involuntarily.

Blindly, not taking his eyes off her face, he flicked his finger against the plastic of her weapon and flipped the little laser pointer out that she'd forgotten. "Here's your target. You get more points if you hit it straight on," he hushed at her, and her eyes flicked away from his and back to her gun.

"Oh," she said dejectedly, deflating in his arms in her 'damn am I stupid,' voice, and he shook his head, and pressed against her. A set of holograms appeared in front of them, and she jumped in his arms while he stood still against the thrill of her movement, and pressed his hands against hers and the toy weapon.

"Breathe in, hold your breath a little," he whispered against her ear, and felt her do just that. "Pull the trigger when you're breathing out. This way you can hit it bull's eye and get better points. Hold your hands steady as you shoot or it will pull you up."

She exhaled slowly and pulled the trigger, stemming against him.

He smirked when she hit it right on target this time. The digital counter flashing on the pack on her chest went up with a set of full points.

He only reluctantly stepped back, just a little, smiling dumbly down at her, and Usagi jumped and cheered as if she'd won the whole game.

"Mamoru, I have trouble, too. Can you show me, too?"

He shook out of his distraction, and Natsumi was once again at his side, tilting her head up at him and smiling coyly.

At least she wasn't on his arm this time. Improvement.

He smiled at her. "You were doing just fine there, Natsumi. Just keep doing that."

Natsumi huffed, starting to speak but closing her mouth. Seijuro stood with his arms folded.

And then he shot a hologram right behind Mamoru blindly, once again without even looking at it, instead with a smug, cocky grin directed at Mamoru with all the challenge in it.

Well, Mamoru wasn't gonna lose to this guy.

In _any _way.

In a split second decision, he grabbed Usagi's hand and pulled.

"Whoever beats the high score first wins," he shouted behind him at Seijuro, and successfully darted away with her.

He ran as if the enemy were at his heels, shooting with single-minded precision, trying to get as much distance between Usagi and Seijuro as possible.

And for a second there, this felt good. So absolutely good. Her hands were warm and gripped his tightly and he fired blindly and turned back to shoot her a grin.

Her cheeks were flushed, a smile played around her lips.

"C'mon, Usako," he grinned. "I know you can do this."

Something flashed in her eyes and was replaced by a determined glint to her eyes. She raised her toy gun and shot. The hologram went down.

He laughed in delight and pulled her along faster.

He forgot himself. At one point he was just lost in the flow and found himself mindlessly grabbing at her, his arm around her waist, her shoulder, pulling her to her knees as they scooted along to avoid obstacles. They were moving like they used to be so accustomed to, so very in sync, and she joined in shooting as she grabbed at his hand tightly and giggled all along.

He shot her a toothy grin. They were good at this. Really, really good at this. They were in sync, an _amazing _team… He slipped his fingers down her palm, shifted their grip, interlaced their fingers, and didn't intend to ever let go.

She was laughing, jumping up and down in that sweet, addictive delight, trying fruitlessly to catch her breath between giggles when they hit what looked like the last target of the stage at the same time, both their counters flashing in staggeringly high numbers. He couldn't help but helplessly grin back down at her, couldn't help the way his face moved down as if on its own volition, moving towards hers and with hers and searching out her smile, trying to be _closer_.

She beamed up at him, eyes bright, but her laughter died down, and her breath hitched, and he realised with a jolt that ran along his stooped spine that he was leaning down-

"Mamo-chan…" she whispered, and it jolted through him, a full-body, contented shudder.

Her eyes were wide and watching him, and her lips opened softly, and when she breathed out slowly her breath brushed against his lips, opened just the same.

He was terrified. He was absolutely terrified. But he brought both hands up and brushed them against her cheeks and to her temples and did what Seijuro had done before - brushed her hair back behind her ears but he was so much closer.

It wouldn't, of course, even be their first kiss. Not really. He remembered a hundred kisses with her. And one at a ball here in Tokyo. He wondered if it would feel the same-

His heart hammered against his chest, trying to rip from his chest and bridge the distance towards her. Just one tilt of his head and his lips would be on hers. Just one tug of his hands on her face and her lips would be on his. He held his breath, he could almost _taste _her-

Leaning in wide-eyed and panicked and _excited_, his lips brushed against hers barely, softly, coaxing a whimper from her throat and shit _yes _\- and then her mouth crashed uncomfortably, teeth and lips and chin into him and he groaned painfully, jumping back.

She'd fallen against him, and her brother was shaking her, shrieking wildly about one of the monsters not disappearing when you shot at it, and that it was attacking people and their dad.

Oh, for the _love of-_

* * *

Tuxedo Mask definitely was not at the top of his game.

The monster was obnoxious and violent and it had tentacles attached to civilians, and when it hurled them around, these people were thrown around by their _heads_ and it was frankly quite terrifying and revolting.

On top of that, he was _shaken_. His lips had been on _Usagi's _just a minute before the panic about her father had locked her in, and it was probably the most awful first kiss in history.

But it wasn't, right? It didn't count. They'd barely started. Besides, they'd kissed before. Hundreds of times. It didn't _count_, right? He hadn't botched that one, too, _right_?

Unsurprisingly, Tuxedo Mask was distracted. He was too overprotective (as always) and not on his mark on top of that, missed shots and shoved _her_ out of shots when he underestimated the distance between her and the enemy. Sailor Moon was rightfully, rightfully irritated with him.

Starting out, Sailor Moon, in stark contrast to him, had been _amazing_. Better than usual, even. She'd backflipped into the fight with a cocky, toothy grin on her lips and a wink in her cheeky eyes and kicked ass until he couldn't keep up and made it harder for her. Their initial advantage turned fast, courtesy of him, and she shouted at him and pushed him out of the way when he was too distracted to not be targeted, and it really was the worst he'd ever performed.

Her brother and father were among the victims. He _owed _it to her and to them to get a grip, but he _couldn't_.

One of the tentacles shot at Sailor Moon and he snarled like an animal, launching himself between her and the Cardian and managed only to get himself trapped in the process.

He lost consciousness pretty soon after that.

When he came to, the Cardian was dust and the two aliens were snarking at Sailor Moon, her gloves digging into his shoulders and cradling his face protectively in her lap.

When they were gone, and his strength slowly returned to him, he felt the mortification slowly settle in his bones. He'd totally, absolutely, _completely _failed her today.

Pressing his eyes shut, he stemmed his hands onto his knees and groggily stood up. Around them, there wasn't a single one of the victims, and they were in a different room? What had she...?

"Are you ok…?" Sailor Moon's concerned voice breathed behind him.

He turned around, and his eyes widened in terror. She was _beaten_. He could see purple blotches at her legs, her arms, her cheekbone, her _throat-_

He inhaled sharply.

He was in her personal space in less than a second and used his thumb to carefully tilt her face.

"Are _you _okay?" he gasped...

Her eyes jumped at him, because they were so bloody expressive it _hurt _him sometimes, and his fingers lingered and he saw her chin quiver before she snapped her mouth shut and freed her face from his hold with a step back.

Her eyes found her boots. Embarrassed, almost. "I'm fine."

He frowned. She clearly wasn't. He swallowed thickly, hand dumbly stretched out.

"You're hurt," he whispered.

"I'm FINE," she hissed.

She was pulling at him.

It took him a second to realize the alarm was blaring. A much more animated voice was telling people to stay calm, the ambulances were arriving, and he snapped out of it and suddenly acted in the exact vehement and hurried way she did.

Or maybe even more so.

He rushed. Pulled them into a secluded corner. Watching her de-transform was almost more throwing than watching her transform had been just moments earlier. It was the first time they'd done that together since Starlight Tower, and it was the first time he'd ever seen her turn _back - _ribbons and skin and _more skin - _into Usagi, and it threw him for a loop.

He shoved them out and between the crowds and tried his darndest to slip out unnoticed.

He was at their locker before the ruckus was at its most, and out the back door of the theater before the sirens had gotten closer.

He was running. He needed to _talk_. And he couldn't do it if her father, her brother and _Seijuro _were back any second to steal her _away _from him _again_.

But when he was finally sure that they were far enough away, that no one was there to steal her, the panic had once again gripped his heart and turned him stupid.

_I want to be with you._

_Don't fall for that guy, please._

_You looked really cute today._

_I didn't mean what I said the other day. It came out completely wrong._

_Can we go for ice cream?_

_How about that kiss…?_

_Please forgive me._

Nope. Instead he said, "This wasn't looking good there for a second, Usagi…"

He breathed out shakily and he could _see _all her walls of defense go up in her and the way she crossed her arms. "I can manage," she glowered.

He swallowed. "_We_," he implored vehemently.

She threw him a look of surprise, he held her gaze.

"Why are you avoiding this conversation, Usagi?" he asked eventually.

Yeah, _right _\- he was one to talk, the hypocrisy of that statement wasn't lost on him and he flinched.

She remained silent for another beat.

Then she glanced into the distance with a sigh. With falling shoulders, she spoke, and it sounded weirdly like a confession.

"Luna and Artemis want to wake the girls," she mumbled, kneading her fingers.

He frowned. "Wake?"

"Yeah," she breathed, shoulders hunched. "Like they did with me. But I really don't think it's necessary…"

His frown turned deeper and he faltered in his step. They were in a slow residential side street, away from the ruckus, and it felt oddly quiet and peaceful for a conversation that turned out to be… important after all.

His heart beat wildly again. He knew she was going to misunderstand, but he had to say it anyway.

"I... I disagree," he said quietly.

Her eyes flew to him as if he'd betrayed her. "What?"

He balled his fists and unclenched them with a flinch to one side. How to…

"I mean…" he started carefully. "Should… should you have ever been a Senshi, Usagi? Wasn't that... didn't Luna make a mistake?"

She gasped. Took a step back, and tears sprang to her eyes in betrayal. "Excuse me?!" she hissed.

He exhaled shakily, held up his hands. _Fuck_.

"I meant... should you fight?"

Her eyes flashed and slipped into fight mode and _shit_ he was-

"What is that supposed to mean?!" She screeched. "I just saved the whole _world_!"

He crinched, looked around him. There were _people _living in these houses. He hissed in answer. "...And died doing it," he pointed out.

Her mouth opened in utter, angry, furious hurt.

_Shit_.

"No, wait!"

She turned to leave, her hair slapping against him as she turned abruptly.

"Usagi, I didn't mean-"

She whirled back around. "I know you underestimate me, Mamoru-baka, but-"

"That's not what I-"

She raised her voice, spoke right over him in the most authoritative, regal, ordering voice he had ever heard her use. In _any _life.

"But I want the girls to have what I can't. A normal life."

He shut his mouth with an audible snap, recoiling.

"You'll just have to deal with me, sorry if I seem so incompetent to you," she sneered, and whirled back around.

He called after her, walked in fast strides behind her. "USAGI, THAT'S NOT-" he shouted.

She walked even faster.

He exhaled. Stopped. _Shit_.

Her back grew smaller in his vision and he cursed. This was it. He'd fucked up for good. She'd never-

No.

"STOP!" he yelled.

And to his surprise, she did. She stopped. Turned around with crossed arms and hurt in her eyes.

But she'd stopped.

Pounding heart, he jogged back up to her.

His heart tasted like vomit in his mouth.

_Last chance,_ his mind whispered. _Don't fuck it up._

"Let me say this," he begged when he was back in her personal space. "Let me get this right."

She glared up at him, craning her neck, but rolled her wrist in that obnoxious, 'do go on'-gesture that he hated.

He exhaled shakily, ran a hand through his hair. This was it. This was-

He begged his heart to _please_, please, please be brave for a start and his brain to leave him the _fuck _alone, just for the time to get this right, and then he spoke.

"I'm not saying I don't think you can't do it alone. Not at all. I'm pretty sure you're the most powerful person in the universe. You've _proven _that. If _anyone _can do it alone, it would be you. No questions asked," he started, and exhaled.

Usagi's eyes flashed in surprise and it hurt because it meant that this was _news _to her-

But he had to rush it all out because there was a good chance if he stopped to think he might chicken out again.

"I just think it's unfair to you," he implored. "And I think you should have a choice. The princess was never _meant _to be a Senshi."

Usagi moved to object and he shook his head sharply.

"You already died for the world," he rushed out. "You don't owe it anything. The world owes _you _the normal life _you _wished for. Without… Without fighting, without reborn…" he swallowed "...Ex-boyfriends who tried to… tried to kill you. I think you don't have to feel bad about not wanting to do this. The senshi could take over for you. I think it's a choice you're allowed … allowed to make. If that's what you want."

He was standing too close again, and she was blinking at him with wide, shocked eyes.

She shook her head. "I…"

But nothing more came out. He waited.

They were doing this in a little tiny road, in the middle of the day. There was a cat on the low wall across from them, wagging her tail lazily off the stone as it watched them.

She shook her head, he saw her hand tighten against her elbow. "I couldn't," she said with some force, and he pursed his lips, ready to protest this time, but she went on. "I can't let others fight for me in my name when I know I can beat them. I can't have that normal life if it means my friends can't…"

He frowned. "But… isn't that what you're doing for THEM?" he said. "Do you think they're doing the wrong thing?"

She glared at him. "They don't know. I do."

He exhaled, ran a hand through his hair and huffed into the distance. "Usagi…"

And then her soft little hand was at his chest and it jolted through him and he wanted nothing more than cradle it against him and so he… so he did. Covered it with his own hand and felt her skin jump underneath his touch.

Her throat moved as she swallowed and spoke to his chest. "I want a normal life. Yes. I want it so badly. But not if not everyone has it too?" She whispered, and her eyes met his.

He breathed out slowly.

"So, I guess I have to fight for peace so long until I can have it?" She'd phrased it as a question. An apologetic, flinching question, shrugging one shoulder as if in apology, and it shot through him.

It shot and shot and shot and his heart was left tattered and bleeding and forever hers.

_I love you._

He felt something prick in his eyes, touched and moved and… He suddenly lost the ability to speak even when he'd just learned how to..

"You're… you're…"

He broke off, helpless. Instead, he just pressed her palm tighter against his chest and stared at her and stared at her.

And she was staring back.

...At least until she started frowning, and tilted her head ever so softly to the side.

"Is that what you are?" she asked in a too melancholy voice that did not fit her at all.

He blinked in confusion.

"My ex boyfriend," she elaborated with a too sad smile.

Ah.

His heart galloped away from him.

"...is that what you want me to be?" he whispered.

But she didn't answer. Instead her frown turned deeper, and she scrutinized him as if trying to solve a puzzle.

He knew the feeling.

They stood staring at each other, unmoving, until Usagi groaned loudly, grabbed his hand, and dragged him back towards the more residential part of Juuban with thunder in her steps.

He was so confused, and yet he followed blindly.

"Usa… where are we going…?"

With a start, he finally took notice of the fact that he was holding her hand. That, in fact, he'd _been _holding her hand most of this day…

That he'd _kissed _her - maybe. Probably…

"We're getting ice cream," Usagi announced with a curt little nod.

He snorted. "What?"

"All the serious conversations go better with ice cream," she explained as if he were being stupid.

"...O-okay," he mumbled, too breathlessly.

She darted around another corner with him and stopped not at a fruit parlor, but at a conbini. He blinked. Followed her inside.

A boy with spots on his nose greeted them with a friendly voice and even friendlier bow and soft music trilled at them from the ceilings as Usagi steered them clear to the freezers.

She didn't even ask. Just pulled two Morinaga waffles filled with soft ice cream from the freezer and stalked back to the tills, barely waiting, digging for change in her jacket pockets.

"Let me," he yelped, freaked out.

"Nope," she chirped, throwing coins into the little tray and smiling at the cashier. "My treat."

He was frowning at her all the time, feeling a little helpless.

Once outside, she popped the plastic wrapping against his nose. "Here," she said, and ripped hers open.

He frowned, but accepted.

At his morose look, her eyes softened. "You can treat me next time," she offered with a small smile and a flush to her cheeks.

_Next time…_

She wanted them to have a next time.

He stared at her perhaps a little too long, because her cheeks flushed again and she indicated her head for them to walk ahead.

He fell out of his stupor and jerked alongside.

Walking, their hands almost brushed and she threw him a small sideways smile as she bit into her waffle and nodded at his untouched one.

"About that serious conversation," she eventually prompted as they almost neared the park - he hadn't even noticed that's where they were walking to - and it prompted him to bite into his melting ice cream waffle just so he could stall for time a little longer.

But one could chew ice cream only for so long.

Her eyes were patient when he finally spoke.

"I'm sorry," he said, catching her eyes.

But her expression fell into dismay. "You're sorry...?"

He nodded vehemently. "I am."

"For…" she trailed off. She looked a little spooked and he didn't know what he was doing wrong _this _time…? "… for what? Are you trying to let me know you don't-"

"Yes," he interrupted, and at her frazzled look, his eyes widened. "No!" he yelped, only to revert back to, "Yes! Just ...I'm very, very sorry."

A half-eaten ice cream waffle hung limp beneath giant, frightened eyes looking up at him and he cringed and ran a hand through his hair again. It must have looked like a nest by now.

He breathed slowly. "That I'm such a moron," he told his feet. "I'm... really bad at this and I'm... I'm terrified."

It threw him to hear her soft, whispered, "...me, too."

Wait, what?

"Terrified," Usagi elaborated, looking up at him with wide, frightened, heart-crushing _beautiful _eyes. "I'm not Serenity," she whispered up at him and it hit him like a punch. "And I'm not really Sailor Moon either, at least not only, and you _really _didn't like Usagi. Two times."

His heart was beating at his ribcage, trying to run free.

She sat down at a bench in front of a fountain with a clock tower in the middle, and patted the spot beside her.

But he remained standing. "I DO like Usagi!" he shouted, because yes. Yes, it was the absolute truth.

She looked at him as if he'd gone crazy, and it was _wrong_.

His lip trembled. "I... I like Usagi very much."

She looked at him with shocked, surprised eyes and he finally sat down beside her.

He found her big, big eyes. "I'm scared I can't manage to prove to Usagi that I might be worth the trouble. Because I'm not sure if I'm worth the trouble?"

And finally, finally it broke the dam. It babbled out of him. That he was scared to the bone he'd fucked them up, that she might not like Mamoru-baka, couldn't look past him. Because he hadn't made a very good first impression on her. _Twice_.

That really, he blamed Endymion, in retrospect. That smug, arrogant, reckless douche that was Mamoru-baka? That wasn't him... Well, it _was_. Deep down and buried underneath orphanages and polite studiousness, it really, _really _was him. But he'd had it trained out of him. Carefree, reckless, smug Endymion had had no place in Mamoru's secluded, responsible life until Usagi came around to bring him out to play the second he met her. Twice, apparently.

His hands were _shaking _in panic.

Usagi looked at him with the widest eyes he'd ever seen on him.

"I… I think I don't know Usagi really well?" he confessed. "I thought I knew her. I thought I'd taken one look at her and got her judged into the right little box. Airhead. Lazy. Crybaby. Idiot."

"Ouch," she mumbled, looking back at her hands.

"Shit," he cursed, panicked, and cringed in apology. "That came out wrong. I just mean…"

She shook her head. "Go on. Calm down."

He breathed, his hands trembled violently still. "What I mean to say…" he started back up with a thick pause. "I...I put you in a box. An unfair one. I drew conclusions. But… obviously, I didn't get you right. You're way more complex than that, way more intriguing."

She shrugged. His remaining ice cream waffle lay on its plastic wrapper next to them, completely melted.

"I _am _an airhead," she said with her nose in cute, apologetic wrinkles. "And lazy. Definitely a crybaby. And most people would agree on idiot, too. You're not wrong."

"No!" He licked his lips, nerves fluttering too wild. "You also… you can't be so lazy if you save the world on a regular basis and get up again and again. You make floozy decisions but you also don't shy away from taking on this responsibility alone when all you want is to live a normal life. You do cry a lot but you also face the biggest horrors and look them bravely in the eye. You're faced with the fact that your biggest dream - of a calm life with lots of manga and lots of peace - is completely out of reach for you, and yet you manage to have the happiest smile I've ever seen and you _mean _it…"

When he came up for breath, Usagi looked like she was shell-shocked, cheeks pink and flushed and eyes wide and… he carefully put his trembling hand on top of hers. It was trembling, too, and he chortled a dying laugh.

"You… look really hard for someone claiming not to know me that well," Usagi muttered at their hands. "Honestly, I think you're totally overestimating me... I'm just… going with the flow, is all. I don't overthink."

He chuckled mirthlessly. "I overthink a lot."

She nodded at him in the 'No shit' way and he snorted out one more dying chortle. "Oh, I _know_," she said.

He exhaled, curled his hand around hers fully. "You say you're not like Serenity."

She nodded. "Because I'm really not."

He shook his head. "I completely disagree."

Her brows furrowed cutely in her frown.

He shrugged at her. "Sure," he said, "you don't have the kind of regal training and grace that was drilled into Serenity from the first second she could walk and talk. But Serenity was the same."

She shook her head, but he tugged at her hand lest she get ideas to withdraw, and stroked his thumb across it, watching as it swirled around the soft skin there. "You're exactly the same," he whispered to her hand. "The complexity. The only difference was that it was more apparent for me from the start with her… I didn't put her into a box when really I could have as easily. But there you were, this heiress of the Silver Millennium, the weight of an empire on her shoulders and a life she never wanted and she stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes and kicked mud at me and smiled at a sunrise as if it made you happier than anyone had ever been about anything in the whole world."

He looked up, and her face was much, much closer.

"I'm…" he said, whispered, hushed… "I can't put into words the way that makes me…" _want you. Keep you. Love you. Please. _

He trailed off and didn't say anymore. But Usagi's eyes stared daggers into him.

"I really wanted today to be a date," she blurted, and then flushed.

His eyes flew back to hers.

"When I called you. I tried so hard to ask you out," she confessed, her face flushing with heat. "I really tried. But… that wasn't like, butterflies. That was… painful, paralyzing, carnivorous _pterodactyls _eating at my insides."

He snorted.

She huffed. "Don't make fun of me," she pouted.

He gripped her hand tighter. "Really, I'm _not_," he promised.

"Just…" she sighed. "How do you ask someone out who you remember dying with? Twice? Someone who died _because of you_? Someone you remember bringing down kingdoms with, someone you remember insulting in the streets because you didn't recognize him? Someone who didn't look at you twice except to tell you you eat too much and talk too much and aren't like a lady? Someone who didn't seem to want you back _at all_?"

He flinched.

"How do you go up to reborn ancient royalty you got HISTORY with and not just of the shoe throwing kind and just... ask them out?"

_Oh_.

So… so, she felt it too… She felt _all of it_, too.

He exhaled slowly, his heart on his tongue.

And there was some sort of magic at work here, he was pretty sure. How all it finally took for making it so easy was that it be brought out in the open how very difficult it felt.

"Would you…" he started - heart pounding, mouth too dry, _finally_. "Would you like to go out with me, Usako?"

She exhaled breathlessly and smiled. And then she nodded.

And wow… so _this_ was how it was _really_ supposed to feel like.

* * *

Fin

* * *

_Kasienda likes first season, Makaiju arc, and when they talk at length after a reveal. So yeah this was them set in the Makaiju arc talking at length about classic lol. But yeah, I hoped to give them somewhat of a smoother transition in which they suck finally less at communication, my babies. The VR episode is the 4th episode in the Makaiju arc, thus I gave them a few episodes to awkwardly flounder along and dig their graves a little deeper lol._

_Also here's a tidbit about the Makaiju arc. I know the writers didn't give any fucks about timelines but… the Makaiju arc is set in April. It starts with the beginning of the school year in cherry . And they're in year 2. Just like they were in ALL OF CLASSIC just that, you know,. The school year STARTED in the Makaiju arc. So yeah the Silver Crystal made them go back in time just without the Dark it's all weird I'm calling it lol._

_Also before you kill me all. I really think part of the reason we all adore Usagi so bottomlessly as most of us do, is that duality in her. And I think that's part of what Mamoru loves in her too. He doesn't love only Sailor Moon, and he doesn't love only Usagi. Because Usagi is neither of these persons alone, and without the other persona she is only half of who she is. He loves this girl who is BOTH and who will not rest until the world is saved although she really can't get be bothered to get out of bed ever. Who wails at nothing and then turns around to face the greatest threats head-first. Someone so heartbreakingly resilient who can be so delightfully carefree even when she's managing the weight of the world. I do think someone like Anime-Mamoru would have had trouble seeing all of her straight from the start, and would beat himself over for the oversight, and that's what I was coming from here. _

_Anyway, I hope you liked this! And you, Kasienda, most of all! Reviews are love (an expression I stole from Kasienda as it happens to be, haha)!_


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